Un Serpent au Milieu des Fleurs

A Snake Among the Flowers

-oOo-

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

-oOo-

Chapter 2

28 Nov 2024

-oOo-

May 5, 1994

The same day Harry comes back…

Somewhere in Albania

The current body he was inhabiting was starting to die. The fox's fur was falling out in clumps. Festering soars gave it a half dead look. The froth around the mouth was a sure sign this body would soon fail.

He longed to properly inhabit a wizard's body. He yearned for the power it would give him. Power enough to finally stop this shadowed existence.

The horcruxes were supposed to make him immortal. The process of making them was easy enough. It took the will to take someone else's life so you could live in their place. The ritual to stretch your soul took another life that had to be innocent and in the spring of their life. Attaching the wondering bit of a soul to a container was the hardest part.

To lock a part of a soul into something took will power.

What the soul piece desired once severed was to die or find a new body and would do anything to do so. With will alone, you had to keep the fragment from rejoining you, going on to the beyond, or taking over a new host before it was trapped in the horcrux object.

The other issue was that once a soul bit was severed, it stopped maturing, learning and essentially living.

The horcruxes did as they were supposed to. He did not die.

But, in all his research, there had been nothing about living like a wraith if you were killed. None of the books and scrolls actually described what happened if killed. He didn't think it a big deal. They also didn't say that the longer you were a wraith, the more your power was sapped. He had figured that if he ever died, he would be able to be resurrected within a week.

After the Potter brat had somehow destroyed his body, he had been forced to flee when Peter ran. That one day saw his most devout servants captured or killed. Before he could find the Lestranges, the ones entrusted with his secret on resurrection, they had gone after the insipid Longbottom boy and then went to Azkaban.

After having a run in with an Unspeakable that tried to banish him, he had been forced to flee.

In the interceding years, he found that inhabiting a body, any body, made him feel more connected. The longer he spent as a shade, the thinner and more stretched he felt. He would not die, but without a body, and magic, he felt the threads to his horcruxes thinning.

The year he possessed Quirrell, the first wizard he had dared to do so, had made him feel more alive than he had in years. Even if he had to exist on the back of the man's head and drink unicorn blood, he had felt powerful once more.

It had been worth it to be in a proper body and feel his magic again.

He swore that he would get revenge on Potter and all those that wronged him.

Potter. Dumbledore. His unfaithful followers. The Unspeakables.

They would all suffer.

Potter and the Unspeakables were the top of his list.

He pushed the body of the fox, desperate to reach the edge of the forest before this body gave out. It was time to have a proper body again.

The degrading scent receptacles picked up humans. The fox's instincts were to avoid them. He pushed his will to get closer.

He was just about to the edge of the village when something inside him started to feel strange. It was a twinge of pain…

He hadn't felt anything in years…

The fox gave a yip as the pain he was feeling transferred to the small thing's body. It collapsed. As the pain grew, the fox started to cry out in its own pain. Writhing on the forest floor, the pained scream of the Dark Lord came out of the small form.

It felt like something was being ripped from him.

Something essential.

Something that was an integral part of him.

He screamed and screamed as the fox's body finally died.

Being expelled, the wraith of the Dark Lord screamed and churned like a writhing storm. The fox convulsed a few times, then stilled.

After an indeterminable time, the pain stopped.

Like that night that Potter had defeated him, he felt fear.

He was certain that the tendrils to his horcruxes were still there. Still, he felt less. It was the only way he could describe it to himself.

Needing to think this out, and not running from whatever happens in the least, his shade fled back into the forest. As much as he needed magic to grow strong again, he needed to get away from the pain more.

-oOo-

May 15, 1994

London, England

Harry knew he had to change things, but he was tired, felt worn and, just, thin.

For the first time in nearly a year, he was eating well while using his occlumency lessons that Hermione and him had started after finding a book from Dumbledore and taking a few dreamless sleep potions to start to feel like he was a normal man again.

That first hot shower had been wonderful. Even though they had spent two weeks at Shell cottage, it hadn't been restful. The day they had escaped Malfoy manor and Dobby was killed; they had gone to Griphook. The rest of the time was trying to figure out how to break into Gringotts.

As he processed the hell of the last year, the soft cooing and songs of the maturing phoenix helped. Fawkes was already getting close to malting, though still only half the size he would be when fully grown. Since the phoenix wasn't acting angry with him, Harry could only think the fire bird didn't mind being taken from Dumbledore.

As he recovered, Harry found he needed to know if thing were the same or different. That had been one of Hermione's big theories, that when messing with time, the entire history could be changed.

As much as he wanted to fix things, in the last nine days he had only done the bare minimum to take care of himself and start to move forward. The first day he had taken the name of Gaunt, banished Tom from the family, then done only a few trips to Diagon Alley to gather old Daily Prophets and pick up a few history books.

He was confident enough that he had come back to the same world.

Was it possible he had done this all before and it would turn out just the way it had before?

"No. I will not let it happen the same way," he said to himself.

Now that he felt normal again, it was time to figure out what he had to work with at Gringotts. As the cart trundled through the cavern, he was starting to formulate plans. Hermione had always been the details person. He usually just pointed himself at a problem and it worked out in the end. Unfortunately, that usually meant there was collateral damage.

First year Ron had almost been killed playing a game of chess.

Second year Ron and him had almost been eaten by giant acromantulas, obliviated and crushed under tons of rocks.

Third year Hermione had almost gotten her first kiss while a werewolf wanted to snack on them both.

Fourth year was Cedric.

Fifth year was Sirius, and all his friends seriously hurt in the DOM.

Sixth year had been Dumbledore. Harry had been sad at the time, but now wished the man was already dead knowing what he had planned for his younger self.

Last year had seen hundreds, probably thousands, of people killed, raped, tortured or a dozen other depravities he probably couldn't even imagine. It all happened because he had been unprepared and unable to do more. Not to mention Dumbledore doing nothing to fix the situation before he was murdered.

His anger at the headmaster had grown as he thought of everything that had happened and that so much of it could have been prevented if Dumbledore had acted. Instead, the arse set up Harry to die and just abandoned everything else to see the damned prophesy come to life.

As he had thought of it all, he had started to wonder what was in the Gaunt vaults. Perhaps there was something that could make it easier to get rid of the horcruxes and save the Harry of this time. He didn't want the boy to have to take a killing curse again.

As he had found, he now had a new lightning bolt scar on his chest, and this younger self didn't need more pain in his life.

Of course, if he had taken the Lestrange vaults, his job would have been easier to destroy the horcruxes, but it wouldn't help him on his other tasks. Saving the other Harry was key to him. Having several million galleons was going to get him further than a bankrupted house. But perhaps…

The cart came to a halt a level or two up from the deepest vaults.

"Vault seventy-three. Key please," the goblin said as he got out of the cart.

Harry handed over his new key and followed the goblin to the door. The goblin put the key in, then ran his finger down the crest in the centre of the door before turning the key. There was a series of clinks and clangs before it slowly opened on its own. The goblin took out the key, handed it to Harry, then moved out of the way.

Harry moved to the portal but did not enter.

Harry thought his vault from his parents had been large. Looking into vault seventy-seven was the difference between a large closet to a large master bedroom. The listing he had gotten from the Gaunt family leger didn't really convey what more than seven million galleons looked like, or that the 'miscellaneous' scrolls and books were a library's worth of knowledge.

The walls were lined with shelves that were stuffed with books, scrolls, artefacts, weapons, instruments, and boxes and boxes of what Harry could only assume was full of coins or other valuables as there were no piles like there had been in his old vault. Eight large steamer trunks ran down the centre of the vault. Three full sets of what looked like goblin steal chainmail, and one that looked like goblin armour, were on stands in the back.

Harry blinked.

If Voldemort had this type of wealth, why did he need financial backers like Malfoy and Parkinson? Or is this where his wealth had gone?

Harry had the stray thought that he had no idea how much it cost to run a rebellion.

Still feeling weary and with Moody's mantra of 'Constant Vigilance' running through his head, he asked the goblin, "May I use my wand?"

The goblin's black eyes bored into his. "Why?"

"I don't trust that anything in here isn't cursed," Harry said.

The goblin had a slight grin. "Apparently not all wizards are ignorant. For a small fee you can use your wand in the vault, or you can hire curse breakers to check your vault and items for curses."

Harry knew enough detection spells to know if he was in over his head, but not really anything about curse breaking. Why hadn't he thought of this when he came to the bank nine days ago?

Oh, yeah, he had just come from a battlefield, been killed, obliviated a man that he had once looked up to as a grandfather and had been sent back four years. Why didn't he ask about this? He internally snarked to himself.

"How much and how long for a curse breaker to go over everything?" Harry questioned.

"Four galleons and three sickles an hour per team member to determine if anything is cursed. Two galleons and eleven sickles an hour to determine how to remove the items. Prices vary depending on what is required to remove or destroy the items," the goblin told him.

Harry frowned. That could turn out to be unbelievably cheap or extremely expensive.

"Could you or a curse breaker tell me today what is safe to touch and what is not?" Harry asked. "I'll pay double the rate."

The goblin looked interested. "If you would come back to the lobby, we can see if any are available."

Harry nodded. He made sure the vault door was closed, the bolts and locks securely in place and his key in his hand before taking the trip back to the surface. It was almost two hours later when two goblins and a witch allowed him to enter the vault after ensuring it was safe to do so.

It was a good thing he hired the curse breaker as they had found it had been password protected. It took Harry all of ten seconds to figure out the strange language the curse breakers were squabbling over was parseltongue and that the arrogant sod would think no one would be able to get in. A quickly hissed, Let me in you stupid wanker, had the dangerous curses dropping. He was fairly sure that wasn't the password, but he was now the head of the Gaunt line, so he shouldn't be kept out of what was rightfully his.

He would need everything in this vault to carry out the rough plan that had started to percolate.

He had arrived at the bank just after nine in the morning. It was close to noon when he was shown back to Gripsack's office.

The old goblin had a pile of gems on his desk.

"What can I do for you today, Mister Gaunt?" Gripsac asked as Harry sat. The goblin didn't take the lens off his eye as he looked at a ruby the size of a galleon.

"I have an enquiry," Harry said.

"Obviously. Stop wasting my time or I will charge you double my rate."

Charming, Harry thought to himself. "You said that the Lestranges are buried in debt?"

Gripsac looked up to regard Harry. His beady black eyes were flinty daggers. "You cannot inherit that house now that you are a Gaunt and, as I said, you do not want too. The debt collection once the two brothers die will bankrupt the house and vaults."

Harry nodded. "Well, that was what I wanted to talk about."

Gripsac put the gem down. "Talk."

"Can I buy out their debt, or get at their vault?"

The expression on the goblin face clearly said he thought Harry and idiot. "There is nothing of value in their vault that would cover the debt they own."

Harry didn't want to seem too eager, but if he could get at Hufflepuffs cup without breaking into the bank again… "I would still like to see if I can get into their vault."

"Why?" Gripsac was suspicious.

"We both know that they were supporters of Riddle. I want to know what they have. Maybe there is something in the vault that could tell me more about him," Harry told him.

The goblins eyes narrowed.

After a moment, Gripsac said, "I will make inquiries. Their debt is more than a half-million galleons."

He could afford that. "I would still like to do this."

The goblin muttered something in gobbledegook. Harry was sure he was being cursed for a fool. "Very well. Would you like to throw your galleons away on anything else?"

"That should be it for now," Harry told him.

At close to one, he was walking out of Gringotts with a pocket full of coins and muggle bills, a half dozen books, including one with the Potter crest on it, and two old wands that had responded to him. After losing his holly and phoenix feather wand, he understood the importance of having multiples. Besides, he really didn't like Draco Malfoys old wand and the new one with the reddish hue wood responded to him as well as his old wand did.

With a growling stomach, he found a hole-in-the-wall place that served a good fish fry before making his way back to the hotel room he was renting. He had found he had developed a taste for fish fries.

Dropping the rucksack he had bought from the goblins onto the bed, he made sure the wards were still up and not disturbed before sitting in the chair at the desk. Those wards that Hermione had ensured were drilled into him had saved their lives too many times for him never to not use them again. Call him paranoid, but it was what had kept them alive. The one time they had let their guard down, the taboo had brought the wards down in a spectacular light show and Snatchers had gotten them…

He would not think about that. Her screams still haunted him most nights.

If he pondered his past, it was a sure way for him to get lost in melancholia instead of focusing on what he needed to do.

Reaching for the rucksack, he took the books out. Even though he was a Gaunt now, he was still a Potter by birth, so was interested to find out why Voldemort would have a book with his family's crest. It had called out to him the second he walked by it. He had reverently taken it off the shelf when the curse breakers indicated that it was safe to touch.

Many things in the vault were not safe to touch.

They estimated it would take a team of three curse breakers a month to determine everything that was on the items and come up with a plan on how to make them safe for Harry. Looking at the treasure trove of items and knowledge, he figured the sixteen-hundred galleon estimate would be worth it. He was not able to get an estimate of what it would cost to break the curses though.

Harry ran his fingers over the crest on the front of the leather-bound book. The book looked a few hundred years old. Opening it, he found an extensive list of names. He was curious about that. Three pages of names with his father and mother being the last ones. Just above them were the names of Fleamont and Euphemia Potter.

He had the urge to add his own name to the list, but he wasn't a full Potter anymore, and what would happen when Harry, the other Harry, saw his name in the book as all the names were clearly written in different hands, like each person had signed their own. Each name had the name of Potter, or a crossed-out maiden with their new last name next to it.

Avoiding the urge, he flipped a few more pages. Ten pages in, he found the first page of script. It was very elaborate. Frowning, Harry could see it was in a much older style of writing. It took him a little bit to go through the old English, then decode the roman numerals, but in the end, he found that this book was the history and magical heritage of his family, with the first entry being in fifteen-seventy-two.

Harry licked his lips.

He had heard of others talking about a family grimoire, but he had doubted his family had one. There had only been coins in his trust vault.

Realizing the treasure this truly was, he couldn't stop thinking about how Voldemort had gotten this book.

Pursing his lips, he started to read the true history of his family.

-oOo-

May 20, 1994

London, England

A still fuzzy phoenix slept on a perch next to Harry as he rubbed his eyes and leaned back in the office chair. The rubbish bin next to the desk was full of take away containers. The book before him wasn't even a quarter of the way through. For the better part of five days now he had been engrossed in the Potter grimoire, with his mind whirling in the background. There was a lifetime of knowledge in here and he had only really scratched the surface.

He had come to a few conclusions while going through the book.

First, he needed this book. The history and magic were his birth right and could be what he needed to beat Voldemort. Perhaps he wouldn't even need to go horcrux hunting this time? At least he knew where all but Nagini were.

That was far more than the first time he had done this.

He had no idea how he would get the locket. Harry couldn't enter Grimmauld Place without Sirius's permission. He knew that Sirius hadn't taken over the old house until after his fourth year.

The diadem was in Hogwarts. Harry could sneak into Hogwarts, but he wasn't sure if that would be good enough. Dumbledore had known he was on the grounds and what was preventing him from knowing again?

Perhaps he should go back and get his NEWTS? If he was in the school, getting the diadem should be easy. Or he could risk it?

The reckless Gryffindor was only being tempered by Hermione's warnings and the way things had gone so disastrously last year.

At lease he was attempting to get the cup in a way that didn't involve breaking into Gringotts. He thought the Lestranges would have been wealthier, but apparently the House of Lestrange was close to falling. He supposed he owed Gripsac a bonus for saving him. Harry did not want to break in and out of Gringotts again but would if he had too.

Picking up the letter he had received today, some of the creditors had been contacted. A few were willing to talk. Henry might have to pay a premium for the debt because the name Lestrange still carried a lot of weight.

The ring was in a known location. After knowing what happened to Dumbledore, that was the only one that he felt he needed a second person to help him with. He could still find the old Gaunt hovel though. He had a rough idea where it was, and there might be a deed to the property in the vault.

After getting them, he needed a way to destroy them. Basilisk venom was the easiest thing he could think of. Feindfyre was too dangerous and would only be used as a last resort.

Looking at the two grimoires, he hoped he could find a way to get the piece out of Harry without firing a killing curse at him.

Second, he needed to get his other self away from the Dursleys and Dumbledore.

He had a little time with Harry at Hogwarts to figure it out, but time was quickly running out. It was about four weeks from now that they would find Scabbers, and everything would go tits up.

He would have to do something about Scabbers sooner than later.

Sneaking into Hogwarts was going to be necessary. He would have to risk it.

Harry, the other Harry, deserved a good life. Sirius deserved to live free and not be locked up the rest of his life. His other self also deserved to know everything about his family and the secrets in the grimoire. It was a burning desire he had up until Dumbledore was killed and he became Undesirable number one.

The Dursleys, Dumbledore and everyone that willingly helped him deserved to burn for abusing him and hiding his heritage.

Third, thinking of the grimoire, how the bloody hell did Voldemort get it?

Fourth, he had to know more about magic.

He had seen the way Voldemort and Dumbledore duelled. Harry was fast, but that was about the only thing that saved him when he had duelled Voldemort until the last fight. Harry would not be such a simpering babe again.

Reading through the grimoires and the other books, Harry also realized he would need to learn more about runes and arithmancy. It would be essential in warding and ward breaking, not to mention understanding spell crafting. Almost every Potter had left a new spell, potion or other magical advancement in the grimoire. He was determined to do the same. The little that Hermione had taught him when they were on the run was not going to be enough.

Lastly, he had concluded that he was needed to act and change things. Preferably as fast as possible, but he couldn't afford to mess this up.

He needed to hide who he was, so his whole name needed to change.

He was getting too muddled in his own head at times to keep saying Harry and the 'other Harry' to himself. According to the Gaunt family tree and some of the history in the grimoire, the Gaunts were not as old as everyone thought. They had started out as the Peverells, much like the Potters, and it was the third son of John of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster, brother to King Edward III and father to King Henry IV, that sired the Gaunt line in the fourteenth century. Henry of Gaunt was a Muggleborn that married the last Peverell daughter of the Cadmus Peverell line.

The Peverells were related to Slytherin, but from a bastard child. The main line of Slytherin died in the twelfth century. Two hundred years before the Gaunt line was founded.

Technically, the Gaunts were younger than the Potter's, but because the progenitor was royalty, and the Gaunts became deeply involved in the blood purity movement, they were regarded as higher than the Potters until the family went into decline about a hundred and fifty years ago.

Of the great houses and the sacred twenty-eight, the Gaunts were one of the youngest houses.

He wondered what old Moldyvorte's reaction was to find that out?

It gave him some credence to claim his lordship as he descended from a prince.

It had sickened him to get confirmation that he was related to Voldemort, even if it was eight-hundred years back.

Harry didn't like that he was related to Voldemort, but hadn't Sirius said that all Purebloods were related in some way? And the Gaunts and Potters were mostly purebloods for the last few hundred years.

Given that the Potters have royal blood in them, like the Gaunts, he had decided he would take on the name Henry. Harry was named after a King, as was James, so why not be named after another king?

It was also a name used many times by both families.

Next, Harry wanted a life after he got rid of Voldemort again.

He needed to get certifications in the wizarding world. Which meant retaking his OWLs at the ministry over the summer and getting his NEWTs. The lovely Hermione, his Hermione, had found that anyone could take OWLs or NEWTS at the ministry. She had found that after considering leaving Hogwarts after that disastrous year with Umbridge. You only needed to be fifteen or older to sit any of the tests.

Harry also needed access to the Chamber of Secrets for the basilisk. Without the sword, basilisk venom would be the best way to destroy the horcruxes. He would also like a basilisk coat or duelling armour. It was even more resistant than dragonhide. The rest could go to the other Harry.

Harry made his list of his needs.

He needed to become more powerful. Simple battle spells just wouldn't cut it anymore.
He needed to free Harry and Sirius.
He needed the diadem.
He needed his NEWTs.
He needed to protect the 'other Harry'.
He needed the basilisk.
He needed Pettigrew.

Resolved to see it done, Harry realized that more than one item could be checked off if he got Pettigrew. He had to go back to Hogwarts and risk being found. Otherwise, Pettigrew would get away, Sirius would remain on the run and Harry would go back to Durzkaban.

Feeling the urge to do something now, Harry picked up the Marauders' map.

He knew roughly where Scabbers would be.

He scanned the map like he had many nights over the last year. It was a habit from the nights in the tent as he wondered how things were going at Hogwarts. He knew where he had seen the name, and quickly found 'Peter Pettigrew' near the kitchens. He had been there the last week.

Not wanting to wait, he determined that there was no time like the present to resolve this issue, and nighttime was the best time to sneak around the castle.

Perhaps he could go to the chamber and the Room of Requirements at the same time?

As much as he would love too, Harry knew that could be disastrous. When doing a mission like this, the idea was to get in and out. If things went well, he could consider going back another time or two.

Pettigrew was the prime objective.

Looking at the map, he saw Snape's name.

He added another item

Revenge on Severus Snape.

Part of that could be achieved by stopping at a room halfway between the kitchens and the man's quarters. And if there were things that could help him, well, he had once been accused of stealing from the Potion Master's private stores. He was innocent at the time…

-oOo-

That night…

Hogwarts, Scotland

The invisibility cloak was wrapped firmly around him as he silently made his way to the room below the humped-back witch. Looking at the map one more time, he was satisfied that it was late enough that no one was wondering the corridors. Patrols usually ended around one in the morning. Only the truly devious would be out around three. All the students and teachers were where they were supposed to be. The only one that seemed to be up was Dumbledore, who was pacing his office.

He hoped that meant that since Dumbledore wasn't already outside the witch the passage went below the wards or his cloak really was that infallible once he had removed the strands that didn't belong and had allowed Dumbledore and Moody to track him.

The only other one that could mess this up was Peeves. That evil spirit took joy in all the pain he could cause. Harry still owed the poltergeist for a trick or three. After a moment, he was satisfied that Peeves was off making trouble in the north tower.

Satisfied, he cast a silencing charm on the statues back. He then made sure he was under a disillusionment, silencing, scent masking and an obscuring charm. He wasn't taking any chances, even if he was using his cloak too. He whispered, "Dissendium."

The statue soundlessly slid to the side.

Thanks to years of sneaking about and learning the passages and hidden ways of the school, Harry was able to make it to the first basement without any issues. It took him a little longer than he wanted as he kept an eye on the map, but Dumbledore stayed in his tower. Peeves was drifting toward his side of the school. Harry would need to keep an eye on that.

At the bottom of the stairs, he took the cage out of his expanded rucksack. Harry had transfigured the cage and enchanted it with everything he could to ensure Scabbers would not escape. Not again.

The map said that Pettigrew was just outside the kitchens.

Even though he knew that he needed to get Pettigrew, there was one other thing to his plans he needed.

Harry made his way past the kitchens to where he knew the private stores of one greasy potions master were. The charms and locking spells on the door were impressive, but Hermione had found all these and taught him how to cast and undo them. The two special ones were that of a certain Half-blood Prince that he knew all too well.

Thinking of that, he added a mental note to get the book out of the cabinet. There were many useful things in that potions book, including the healing charm for the Sectumsempra cutting curse.

His list of Things-To-Do kept growing.

It didn't take him long to disarm, redirect or dismantle the charms. There was no way he was going to set off an alarm charm.

He was just lucky that wards could not be setup in the castle unless the headmaster allowed it, and Dumbledore was too much of a control freak to allow anyone to setup things he could not easily get through himself.

The door opened to a place not much larger than a cupboard. There were many valuable or difficult to get ingredients, but nothing that couldn't easily be replaced. Harry grabbed as much as he could and jammed them into his rucksack.

The true prize, though, was what was hidden behind a door that they hadn't known about in their second year.

It took Harry a few moments to find the latch hidden among the shelves on the back wall. This room was the size of a large walking closet. One wall was full of already made potions, the other much more valuable ingredients that were hard or almost impossible to get. He raided the shelves, grabbing vials of veritaserum, essence of dittany, polyjuice, a potent pain reliever and a few wood sharpening potions. He jammed them all into his rucksack. He didn't recognize the rest, so he didn't want to risk what they might be. Then he grabbed as much as he could of everything else.

Snape may have really been working for them, but he was still a git that made Harry's life hell.

When he left, he made sure all the charms were back in place, then went back up towards the kitchens. He was already in the school too long but needed the potions and Pettigrew. Looking at the map, Dumbledore had finally retired to his bed, and it was getting close to four. People would start to stir in an hour or two.

Looking around, it took him a few minutes to find a hole in the wall just outside the kitchens. Crouching down, he couldn't see anything into the dark hole.

He checked the map one more time. Peeves was close to the great hall. No one was out of their offices, beds or pacing anywhere. Scabbers was definitely in this hole.

His wand slipped out of his cloak. Placing the cage down, he made sure the door was open and in the direct line of the hole and his wand. He was still disillusioned, so no one saw the silent accio. There was a squeak, that turned into frantic rat screams as the Animagus came crashing out of the hole and into the cage.

It was a lot louder than he had intended. A quick stunner silenced Pettigrew, who was screeching bloody murder. He slammed the cage door shut, put the strongest locking charm on it he could, then disillusioned and silenced the whole thing. In less than thirty seconds he was already on his way to the stairs back to the entry hall, hastily stuffing the cage into the expanded rucksack.

He had hoped that he would get out without an issue, or potentially have a chance go to the seventh floor. His hopes were quickly dashed as a gleeful Peeves was zooming down the main stairs and towards the kitchens. "Peevsey's hears trouble. Peevsey's making it worse," the poltergeist gleefully sing-songed as he zoomed down. Harry pressed himself against the wall of the stairwell, hoping the poltergeist wouldn't see him.

It was just enough to have the poltergeist pass by.

Harry didn't wait. He took off as fast as he could to get back to the humped-back witch. Knowing Peeves, he would have half the teachers up in minutes. The diadem would have to wait.

He didn't start breathing normally again until the humped-back witch silently closed behind him, and he was half-way back to Hogsmeade.

Once in the basement of Honeydukes, he left a few galleons on a cask, knowing this is what Fred and George did when they raided the basement. It was more a tip for the use of the tunnel, but he took a few bars of chocolate to make it look like the twins had been by. The money was far more than the chocolate bars were worth, but using the passageway was worth Pettigrew's weight in gold.

When he left, he made sure the door of the shop was locked and charmed to keep others out until it was opened by Mr Honeyduke.

"Me and you are going to have a long talk, Pettigrew, before I hand you over to the Aurors," Harry said, hefting the rucksack back onto his shoulders and then disappearing with a soft crack.

"That is if I don't kill you first," Harry muttered to himself.

-oOo-

May 21, 1994

Westfield, England

Harry tapped on the cage.

The rat had slept all night and now much of the day. After his late-night tryst, Harry had needed some sleep and food before he interrogated the man. He also needed some time to brew a few potions to keep the rat from escaping.

They were in an abandoned barn that Hermione, Ron and him had hidden in for a few days last November before Ron ran. He couldn't think of that right now…

With all the standard wards up, anything short of the taboo would take anyone days to locate the place and hours to break in.

Plenty of time to do what he wanted.

The rat started, looked around, and then began to panic. Harry lowered his face down to the cage. "Hello, Peter Pettigrew."

The rat suddenly stopped. It looked over its shoulder to Harry. Something about Harry's demeanour had the rat shaking. Harry had many reasons to hate this man. He was sure that his features and magic were telegraphing his hatred for the Animagus as he was doing nothing to hold it back.

"Do you know who I am?"

The rat squeaked, then scurried to the door of the cage. It desperately tried to undo the latch.

Harry had a rather nasty grin. "That won't work, Peter." He enjoyed the desperate squeaks. This was one of four men that had made his life a living hell.

"Do you think I would be stupid enough to let the cage be so easily unlocked or leave it unenchanted? I'm not as naïve as I used to be. It might be interesting to see what would happen if you tried to change back while inside something charmed to be unbreakable. Should we try?"

The rat vigorously shook its head, then ran to the far side of the cage.

Feeling he had played with the man enough; he stunned the rat. Opening the cage, he levitated the Animagus to a chair, then reversed the transformation. Snarling at the disgusting fat man with rat like features to his face, it was only through shear will power that he didn't put a drilling hex thru the man's forehead.

After letting out a long breath, he summoned everything out of the man's pockets onto a table next to him. He then tried to summon any hidden portkeys, wands or anything he could think off. When he was satisfied, he vanished all the man's clothes and made sure he didn't have jewellery, or anything disillusioned on him. Harry was not going to take any chances. Then he bound Pettigrew with conjured ropes. Pulling the man's hair, he lifted his head so his mouth opened. Harry dumped a vial full of a green potion into the man's mouth before holding it closed and silently casting rennervate.

Pettigrew woke up. The man involuntarily swallowed a large dose of the potion before sputtering and spitting out the rest that had been in his mouth. Harry didn't really worry since he had given the man a triple dose. Hopefully that wouldn't be fatal.

Pettigrew started to panic as he realized he was bound.

"That will do nothing," Harry said in a very cold voice.

Pettigrew stopped, then slowly looked up to Harry. His face lost much of the ruddy appearance to go as white as a sheet. The man's brown eyes bulged open. "James?"

Harry gave a rather disconcerting grinned. "Try his son."

"But… but… Harry is only thirteen and…"

"And like half my size? Yeah, I know."

The man frantically tried to get out of the ropes.

"You won't be able to escape, and you can't turn into a rat," Harry told him.

Pettigrew stopped. He was shaking now. "What… what do you mean? Where are my clothes?"

Harry shrugged. "I vanished everything you had." The panic was apparent. "As for your rat form, there is a rather useful potion, you see. Did you know that the Potter's are known to be Animagus? It appears most of my ancestors were, and they had learned a lot about the transformation. I bet that you and the others used a potion that my dad gave you to find your animal. Didn't you?"

Pettigrew looked like a deer caught in headlights.

"Did my dad also tell you there is a potion to keep someone from turning? I bet he didn't by the way you look," Harry casually said. He then took out a small vial with a dropper and filled with a clear liquid. The man's panic soothed some of his urge for revenge. "My family talents lay mostly in transfiguration and defence, but they were no slouches in potion making. I may not have had time to make this, but apparently my family was also filled with really talented Potioneers. The veritaserum potion was invented by one of my ancestors. Did you know that?"

"You can… can't. It's illegal. I'm a pure blood," Pettigrew stammered.

Harry's malicious grin had the man pee himself. Harry's lip curled up in disgust. "That is the interesting thing about legality. You must be caught for it to be illegal. But you would know all about not being caught, wouldn't you?"

Pettigrew swallowed.

"You can't be Harry Potter," Pettigrew said.

Harry lifted his fringe. Since being hit by the killing curse again, it had turned into just a very faint white line, but it was still visible. "Fate decided I could go back in time. Though, you are right. I'm not Harry Potter."

Pettigrew looked a little confused. "But you look…"

"Oh, I was Harry Potter. Don't be mistaken there. I have taken on a new name, but you don't really need to know that. Now, are we going to do this the effortless way or the hard way?" Harry dangled the bottle before the man.

"You can't!"

Harry sighed. He really didn't enjoy being mean and cruel, but the last few years had shown him that you needed to be at times. He roughly grabbed the man's chin. Pettigrew was determinedly keeping his mouth shut. Harry stomped on Pettigrew's toes as hard as he could. Pettigrew screamed and Harry's wand cast a body bind.

With his mouth stuck open, the man's eyes frantically moved around in his head looking for a way out. Harry unstoppered the bottle, then put four drops of veritaserum on the man's tongue. It took about five seconds before the eyes stilled and took on a glassy sheen. Once satisfied the man was under the calming and mind-altering concoction, Harry released him from the body bind.

"Why did you sell out my parents to Voldemort?"

Pettigrew answered in the monotone Harry had come to associate with the potion. "The Dark Lord was powerful. People were disappearing or dying and Lucius Malfoy found out where my mother was. If I sold Lily and James out to the Dark Lord, then I would live, and my mother would be left alone."

Harry's nostrils flared. He could understand Pettigrew's reasoning, but he would never have sold out his friends.

"Where is Voldemort?"

"I don't know," Pettigrew said.

Harry's eyes narrowed. What had Hermione said?

Veritaserum only requires the person to answer truthfully to the question you ask, but if you don't ask the direct question, they don't have to answer.

"Where do you think Voldemort is?" Harry questioned.

"There are rumours of an evil spirit in the woods of Albania. There are also stories of a great evil in eastern Russia and in the mountains of Pakistan," Pettigrew replied.

Well, fuck! Albania was the most likely place. Dumbledore had never told him where Voldemort had hidden all those years. It was where Quirrell had gone on his sabbatical and where the Grey Lady had originally hidden the diadem, so it made sense.

"Do you have anything from my parents, Voldemort or Sirius Black?"

"I have the Dark Lords wand and a dagger he had on him the night Harry Potter destroyed him."

Harry pursed his lips.

"Where?"

Pettigrew's monotone didn't vary. "At my mother's house in a chest buried in the garden."

Harry had another task to add to his To-Do list.

He really wanted to know how Voldemort got his families grimoire. "Did you ever take anything from my family, my parents or Sirius Black?"

"I took many books and items from Potter manor after it was destroyed by the Dark Lord. I have three of the journals we all made while in Hogwarts. I stole more than two hundred galleons from Padfoot and Prongs. I stole a bra and three knickers from Lily…"

"That's enough," Harry said, feeling disgusted. "Where is everything?"

"I gave all the books and some of the trinket from Potter manor to the Dark Lord. The journals, the Dark Lord's wand, the things I kept, and the dagger are hidden in a chest in the yard at my mother's old house. I sold everything else," Pettigrew told him.

Harry was on the verge of losing it. This man had sold off his family's legacy. It was with a dangerous growl he asked, "When were my grandparent murdered?"

"Fleamont and Euphemia Potter were killed in April of nineteen seventy-seven. Garret and Rose Evans were killed in May of nineteen-seventy-seven."

Harry had never known that. He had a sinking suspicion though. "Did you sell them out?"

"Yes."

The floor felt like it was dropping out from beneath him. They were all sixteen in nineteen-seventy-seven. "When did you join Voldemort?"

"Easter of nineteen-seventy-seven."

FOUR YEARS! This bastard was a spy for four years and had killed all his family! The man's first job must have been selling out Harry's grandparents! Wormtail was a fitting name.

Rage didn't begin to describe what he was feeling.

He pushed it down. There were more important things than to get his revenge at this second.

It took him a few minutes to calm enough to focus again.

"Who else did you sell out to Voldemort?"

"Fleamont and Euphemia Potter, Garret and Rose Evans, Gideon and Fabian Prewitt, William Longbottom, the McKinnon family and James and Lily Potter," Pettigrew replied.

Harry had heard of the Prewitt twins, but not Willam Longbottom and only a vague recollection of someone mentioning the McKinnons. What disturbed him the most was that he had sold out his entire family.

Not sure what else to ask, Harry frowned. The potion should last another fifteen minutes or so. Looking around, his eyes fell on his rucksack. "Did you steal things from other families?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"The family grimoires of the Potters, Prewitts and McKinnons. Many other books and items from their houses…" Pettigrew went on for nearly ten minutes describing what he had done and answering Harry on any specifics.

When done, he had a much better understanding of what Voldemort had squirrelled away in his vault. He doubted that Pettigrew was Voldemort's only minion to do so, but many of the items were family heirlooms or books from other families. Harry would have to go through them all and return those to any families that still had living relatives. As for the others, he might need them.

The heirlooms he would do the same. He would have to ask the goblins if they could identify who they belonged to.

Satisfied that he got what he could, Harry stunned Pettigrew to figure out what to do next. He didn't really trust the DMLE or the ministry. Not with Fudge, Umbridge and Malfoy crawling all over it. Pettigrew had to go to trial though and Sirius had to be freed.

Though, to free Sirius, he would have to find him first.

Harry didn't trust the man around Pettigrew though.

Now that he was done for the moment, Harry wished the man could turn back, but the anti-animagus potion would take a week or more to work out of his system and he didn't trust himself enough to brew an antidote without a recipe. He would have to look through the Potter grimoire to find it. He had only copied the potion while hiding the books, not wanting to lose them if he had been caught.

"Well fuck. I must go hunt a grim," he muttered.

Harry made sure that Pettigrew was stunned again. He found himself wishing he had a draught of the living dead. Instead, he would have to trust in the potion and the bindings. Harry made sure that each wrist and ankle were individually tied up before making sure the man was then bound with ropes from neck to ankles. It would be uncomfortable as hell before Harry returned, but it should keep the man here. Especially without a wand.

He made sure there was nothing left to identify him if Pettigrew escaped or was found before walking out of the barn and ensuring every obscuring and locking spell he knew was on the building.

-oOo-

Next time on Un Serpent Parmi les Fleurs: Padfoot starts to confront some of his demons as Harry moves to free the other Harry from Dumbledore.

-oOo-

A/N: After getting a few reviews, I will warn those that want to go on that I am not going to be kind to Dumbledore. Older Harry will have more confrontations with him. I just can't see him as a good guy if you go by cannon. So, if you don't like that sort of thing, then do not torture yourself with this story.

It is not the main theme of this story though, so it shouldn't dominate the storyline.

WolfgangNH 28 November 2024